


Stargazer

by True_Believer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Dubious Astronomy, Episode: s04e13 A World Between Worlds, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Lothal Culture, Mission Fic, Space family, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 10:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16303451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/True_Believer/pseuds/True_Believer
Summary: Despite his intended commitment to surliness, Ezra had to admit he was genuinely interested in this question. It took a moment, since the city had its fair share of light pollution, but before long he identified some familiar patterns.“Yeah. Yeah, actually. I guess we’re close enough to Lothal that the sky is similar.”“All right, so be my eyes,” said Kanan. “Talk me through your constellations.”In other words: Ezra Bridger, his family, and stories of the stars. Spans from pre-series to post-series, with a touch of humor, a bit of hurt/comfort, and a generous portion of angst.





	Stargazer

**Author's Note:**

> Accompanying artwork by [rainglazed](https://rainglazedpaint.tumblr.com/):  
> 

**_I want to lie out_**  
**_on my back under the thousand stars and think_**  
**_my way up among them, through them,_**  
**_and a little past them…_**  
_“The Seekonk Woods,” by Galway Kinnel_

**_Lothal, 13 BBY_ **

_Tonight is a very special night. Usually you would already be in bed by now, but Mom and Dad have made an exception. Lothal is a planet of moonlight—most nights, both moons are full, and people can find their way purely by the light of Lothal’s moons. But tonight, one of the moons is just a sliver of white against the sky, and the world is much darker than usual._

_Mom remarked on it this morning, while reading about it in the news bulletin. “Perfect for stargazing,” Dad had replied, eyes shining. After breakfast, he went out and managed to buy an old, used telescope for just a few credits. And then it was just a matter of waiting for dark, so that you could have your family outing._

_You’ve been looking forward to this all day, and now you can barely contain your excitement as Mom drives the speeder towards an old, disused communications tower, just outside the city. There’s a big, lumpy bag on the seat beside you, filled with the bronze pieces of the telescope, and they jangle every time Mom takes a turn. (They also jangle when you hop up and down in your seat.) Finally you arrive, and you all jump out of the speeder and head to the top._

_Never in your life have you been so high up. You go right up to the platform edge to see how far away the ground is, but Mom quickly scolds you back to safety. (Even though Mr. Sumar always remarks on how big you’re getting, you’re still much shorter than the guard-rail, and there is nothing to keep you from falling off the tower.) Then she insists on holding your hand, but you don’t really mind._

_Dad spends about half a standard hour struggling to put together the telescope, with Mom offering suggestions here and there. But although he is smart and strong and definitely the best dad in the universe, you must admit he is not very good at assembling mechanical devices. You get the feeling that he is a bit disappointed._

_“It’s okay, Dad,” you tell him, with a tight hug. “We can still do stargazing without a telescope, right?”_

_“We absolutely can,” agrees Mom, and you all go back down to the foot of the tower. Mom produces a giant blanket from somewhere and spreads it out on the ground, and you all lay down. For the first time tonight, you stop bouncing with excitement and just look up._

_It’s like someone took a giant box of glitter and flung it out across the night sky. There are so, so many stars, impossible to count, and you suddenly feel very small. But it’s a good kind of small, and you feel like you’re exactly where you should be in the universe. On either side of you, Mom and Dad are equally entranced by the dazzling display. “Wow,” says Dad. “Who needs a telescope with a view like this?” He sounds pleased. Then he asks, “Ezra, do you see the Loth-wolf?”_

_You nearly jump and yell, “Where?” But Mom is already patting your arm reassuringly._

_“Not here, Ezra. In the sky,” she says._

_You try to understand, you really do, but sometimes grown-ups can be so confusing. “All I see is stars,” you reply._

_“You’re not wrong,” says Dad with a chuckle. “But sometimes stars are more than just stars. Sometimes they come together to make a picture, like a connect-the-dots puzzle. We call that a constellation.”_

_You carefully try out the new word. (It’s actually pretty fun to say.)_

_“You know that Loth-wolfs have been protectors of Lothal, time out of mind,” says Dad, and you nod. Everyone knows that; they show up in all the old stories. “Loth-wolves have not been seen on-planet in a long, long time,” he continues. “But they’ve never really left Lothal, because the Loth-wolf is in the sky every night as a constellation.” Dad shows you how to find the Loth-wolf in the sky: a set of bright lights in a distinct trapezoidal shape for the body, with more stars for the head, limbs, and tail. Your eyes widen as you suddenly see an image emerge from the sea of stars. It’s like learning to read—you start with an inscrutable jumble of shapes, but once you’ve seen the meaning in them, you can’t unsee it._

_You love it. “Show me another!” you beg, and Dad smiles._

_“Look there, just ahead of the Loth-wolf—that’s the Loth-cat. See how its tail curves around? And its pointy ears? And beyond the Loth-cat, you can see the Loth-rat running ahead. But the Loth-rat is the one who sets the path; the Loth-cat always follows the Loth-rat, and the Loth-wolf follows the Loth-cat. So in a way, the smallest one of all, the Loth-rat, is the most important.”_

_You giggle. It’s a funny idea—a little mouse being more important than a giant wolf!_

_“Ezra,” says Mom, “I want to show you something important. Look back at the Loth-cat tail. Do you see that bright star at the very tip of its tail? That is our South Star. That means if you keep it ahead of you, you know you are going south. And we live in southern Lothal, so that means you are going home.”_

_Mom puts an arm around you and draws you close for a hug. “So anytime you are lost, all you have to do is look up at the stars—and there’s your path. Follow the Loth-cat, and no matter where you are, it will lead you back home to me.”_

 

* * *

 

**Somewhere in hyperspace, 5 BBY**

Ezra was out of things to do.

He had been on the _Ghost_ for over a week now, and so far it had been… uneventful. At first, he’d volunteered for every possible chore, and then asked for more. Clean the air vents? He was on it. Scrub the carbon scoring off the ship? He would make it shine like new. It was tedious, tiring work, but Ezra didn’t dare risk slacking. (Not yet, at least.) He knew the importance of earning your keep, and he intended to prove his worth from the very start. He wouldn’t give them a reason to get rid of him.

But after a few days, the possible tasks started drying up. When he asked Hera what he should do next, she told him to relax. “You’ve done your fair share of chores for now. I promise that if I need help with anything else, you’ll be the first to know,” she had said with a wry smile. But she hadn’t offered anything else, and that left Ezra at loose ends.

He couldn’t exactly hang out in his room, because his room wasn’t exactly _his._ Zeb was constantly there, suffusing the place with his peculiar aroma, flipping through a magazine or listening to the radio or just plain napping. Ezra had gotten used to having his own space back in his tower, and he was pretty sure Zeb was used to having his own space too. Now whenever he was in his room, Ezra constantly felt like he was both intruding and being intruded upon.

Ezra had been making efforts to get to know Sabine, but she didn’t seem to be a very chatty person. More than once, she flatly said, “I want to be alone right now,” which was pretty much a conversation stopper. He tried not to let this deter him, but it was difficult to hold a conversation through a closed door.

Hera was generally willing to talk with him, but she also seemed to always be in the middle of something important. She didn’t really have down time, and Ezra worried that she might get annoyed if he distracted her from getting her work done.

As for Chopper? Ezra made a point of avoiding the droid, mainly out of self-preservation.

That left Kanan. And in fact, Ezra _was_ spending most of his time with Kanan these days. But there was something about their interactions that felt… _off_ , for lack of a better word. There was a sense of hesitancy, and maybe even frustration. Kanan never pushed him away, but he was not quite welcoming either. He was never unkind, but Ezra still felt like he was holding something back. Sometimes he smiled at him in a way that reminded Ezra of his father, or patted him on the shoulder like he was proud of him, but other times Ezra doubted whether Kanan wanted him around at all.

It was confusing. And exhausting. Which was weird, because they weren’t even _doing_ anything—not a single Jedi training lesson had taken place. Kanan hadn’t even mentioned it. Every once in a while, he would briefly reference the Force or quote some opaque platitude, but he wouldn’t explain it. And then he would be even quieter than usual for the rest of the day.  

Ezra thought this was bizarre behavior, considering that he had been recruited specifically to “learn the ways of the Force.” (And he _did_ truly want to be a Jedi, even if he didn’t completely know what that would mean.) So Ezra tried to stick around Kanan as much as possible, just in case some spontaneous Jedi training might happen by sheer proximity.

So far, it hadn’t happened.

Every once in a while, when Kanan’s strange, stiff manner became too uncomfortable, Ezra would leave and try to find a place where he couldn’t bother anyone. The _Ghost_ was a pretty big ship, but with a crew their size it could feel tight at times. It took some exploring, but Ezra was pleased to discover that the nose gun offered a secluded hideaway. Nobody else spent much time there. He began to think of it as a place of retreat.

Ezra had spent about an hour there this particular morning, fiddling idly with his comlink, but now he was hanging out with Kanan again. Currently they were in hyperspace, on their way to one of their “missions.” They were both seated at the dejarik booth in the common area, but no game was loaded. Kanan was frowning down at his datapad. Occasionally he would take a break from that and frown down at a sheet of flimsi instead. But on the whole, there was a lot of frowning involved. Ezra made some half-hearted attempts to join in, but he didn’t really know what they were looking at, and Kanan did not seem inclined to explain.

Something shifted in the ship, and Ezra recognized it as a sign that they were exiting hyperspace. Hera’s voice broke the silence shortly thereafter, coming staticky through Kanan’s comlink: “Just a heads up, guys—we’re about to land.”

“Oh thank the Force,” said Kanan under his breath. He sprang to his feet and headed towards the cockpit. Ezra followed more slowly, cringing a little. Was Kanan really that excited for the chance to get away from him?

_No_ , Ezra reminded himself. _I didn’t ask to be here—_ he _is the one who invited_ me. _Kanan wants me here._

Ezra just wished he didn’t have to tell himself that so many times every day.

By the time he got to the cockpit, everyone else had gathered and Kanan was already explaining the mission. They were on a planet called Gaulus, in the Outer Rim. They needed to meet with a contact to get some information, but this contact was a bit tricky to reach. He had some paranoid tendencies and refused to use technology for most communications. Instead of a holocall, he insisted they arrange their meeting via an encoded message, written on flimsi, hidden at a particular address. Then he would come meet with them in person at a pre-determined location. It was odd, but the quality of his information was worth dealing with his quirks.

“We want to meet with him tonight, a little ways outside of the town,” said Kanan. “Ezra, are you up for delivering the message?”

Ezra’s eyes lit up, and he immediately said yes. (Finally, a chance to be useful!) Kanan handed him the message and gave him instructions on how to get to the drop point.

“So what’s this place like, anyway?” asked Ezra, once Kanan had finished.

“See for yourself, kid,” said Zeb, pointing through the viewport.

In the midst of their conversation, Ezra hadn’t noticed that the ship had stopped moving. Barring adverse conditions, Hera’s landings were so smooth that sometimes he didn’t even feel them. Ezra peered through the viewport, squinting at the town ahead. From this distance, it basically looked like a hazy set of rectangles. The surrounding land was brown and mainly featureless, with some scrubby vegetation here and there. To the east, a craggy mountain range dominated the horizon. It was not what Ezra would call beautiful, but he was intrigued nonetheless.

“I’ve never been so far from Lothal before,” he murmured wonderingly. He didn’t see the soft but worried glance Kanan gave him in response.

“Maybe we should send Chopper with you…” Kanan said doubtfully.

“No thanks!” said Ezra quickly, and Chopper blatted loudly in what he assumed was fervent agreement.

Kanan pursed his lips, but acquiesced. “Okay, kid. Just make sure to be back before dark. Remember, they close the town gate at sunset, and you don’t want to be trapped inside at night.”

Ezra brushed off his concern and set off, in high spirits.

At first it was fine, and vaguely interesting. The town was like none he had ever seen before—all the homes were hidden behind high duracrete walls, and street signs were few and far between. It almost felt like the whole community had been placed in boxes for safe-keeping. It wasn’t very pretty on the surface, but Ezra supposed there might be beautiful buildings behind the walls. Lots of people were walking on the streets, but nobody seemed inclined to linger in public spaces; everyone went directly to their destination and disappeared behind locked gates. (This did not make for a very inviting atmosphere.) There were a lot of dead-end alleys and he kept running unexpectedly into more walls, which blocked off streets he thought ought to connect. Ezra found himself getting off-track from the directions Kanan had given him, and he kept having to go backwards and try taking a different turn.

After a while, Ezra found the drop point—a loose duracrete block in a particular alley, with just enough space to slip a message behind it. Mission accomplished, Ezra turned around and started to retrace his steps. But at some point he must have gone the wrong way, because he was soon in unfamiliar territory. The walls in this neighborhood looked the same as before (duracrete was duracrete, after all), but there was more graffiti and only a few people walking around. Ezra had the sense that he was being watched by shifty eyes behind the walls, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He quickened his pace and tried to look purposeful; he definitely didn’t want to be lost in this part of town.

Ezra began to retrace his steps (again), or tried to, but now he couldn’t even find his way back to the drop point. Giving up, he fumbled for his comlink. It was embarrassing, but he would have to admit to Kanan that he was lost. Then maybe Kanan could provide him some guidance and he wouldn’t spend all day wandering around.

However, when he reached down for his comlink, his fingers met empty air. Ezra groaned to himself, trying to remember where he had last seen it. He must have left it in the nose gun this morning.

There was nothing for it but to keep going. Eventually he would find his way, right? The town wasn’t actually very big, so unless he was going in circles, he would have to get to the end of it at some point—hopefully before dark. Plus, Ezra was street smart. He could get around Capital City without a problem; this little town should be easy in comparison.

But it was hard to keep going in a straight line for very long, because walls kept popping up and forcing him to detour. (Ezra began to worry that he really _was_ just going in circles.) He thought about asking someone for directions, but by now evening was approaching and most of the townspeople had absconded to their homes for dinner. Besides, he didn’t really want to draw attention to himself, or to the fact that he was a vulnerable visitor. So he faked a self-confident swagger and pretended he was just enjoying a leisurely stroll through town. But on the inside, he was very aware of the setting sun, and of the fact that he no longer had any idea where he was.

This went on for some time. However, although Ezra had become lost gradually, he became unlost very suddenly. With a start, he realized that he had somehow made his way to the city gate. And for once, he’d had good luck (or was it the Force?)—it was still open! But it was a very near thing. The gatekeepers were clearly in the process of shutting the massive door, but they paused to let him exit. He thanked them with a jaunty salute.

At first, Ezra walked towards the _Ghost_ at a comfortable pace. He was relieved to finally be beyond the town’s endless walls, and safe from being locked inside. But after a few moments, it occurred to Ezra that he might not actually be so safe. Kanan had told him to be back before dark, but the sun was almost completely gone. What if they got tired of waiting for him? What if this was a test, and he had failed?

What if they had left?

Suddenly panicked, Ezra broke into a run. He knew it wouldn’t really make sense for them to leave—they still had a meeting with their contact, later that night—but no one had ever stayed for him before. Ezra wasn’t taking any chances.

When the _Ghost_ finally came into view, Ezra saw Kanan silhouetted in the entryway, arms crossed and posture tense. Even from a distance, he gave off the impression of someone whose feelings were all tied up in knots, like a dense tangle of electrical cables. The surge of relief Ezra had felt that he hadn’t been left behind was swiftly replaced with dread of the impending confrontation. Ezra stopped running and walked the rest of the way, his sweat from the prior exertion now turning cold and clammy in the evening chill.

“Where have you been?” demanded Kanan, as soon as he was within earshot.

Sometimes Kanan looked like the pinnacle of calm, the ideal Jedi master, but this was not one of those times. He was drumming his fingers restlessly against one arm, and his tied-back hair looked rumpled, as if he had run his hands through it too many times that day. His eyebrows looked so angry that, in a moment of wild imagination, Ezra thought they might fly off his face altogether and start yelling. To put it bluntly: Kanan looked entirely fed-up.

Well, tough! Ezra was fed-up too—and he was definitely too fed-up to deal with a lecture right now. He tried to push past Kanan without a word, but Kanan grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.

 “Hey,” said Kanan. Despite the manhandling, he softened his tone a bit. “Ezra, I’m not mad—”

“You _sound_ mad.”

 Kanan huffed. “Okay, I _am_ mad. But only because I was— _we_ were worried about you.”

Ezra scoffed. “Worried about me? I’ve lived on my own for most of my life. I think I can handle an afternoon by myself!”

Kanan crossed his arms again, and his eyebrows returned to their original angry position. His voice was sharp as he said, “You should have taken your comlink. You’re part of our crew now. Our missions can be dangerous, and I need to know that you’re safe.”

“Well, I’m _fine_. I got a little turned around, that’s all! Look, I delivered your stupid message for you. You should probably leave soon so you can get to your meeting. But for today, I am _done_ with all this—with this—with whatever it is that you guys do!”

With that, Ezra stomped into the ship. (Kanan didn’t follow, and Ezra had to tamp down a hint of disappointment.) He didn’t have a specific destination in mind, but he eventually ended up in the nose gun. And of course, his comlink was there, lying forlornly on the floor. Ezra saw that its light was flashing with 13 missed messages, and he felt a pang of guilt. Maybe they truly _had_ been worried about him…

Ezra flopped down in the gunner seat, folded his arms, and leaned back to look up at the sky. It had transitioned from pale blue to indigo, and the first stars were just beginning to appear. The view was beautiful, but he was miserable. The day had started off pretty bad, and now it was ending even worse. The Spectres hadn’t left him behind yet, but maybe this fight with Kanan would be the straw that broke the bantha’s back. They would realize he was more trouble than he was worth, and Ezra would be alone again. Like always.

From up above, Ezra could hear Kanan and Hera’s muffled voices in the cockpit. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Ezra had to admit that there was something soothing just in knowing they  were there. He closed his eyes for several minutes and allowed himself to brood. When he opened them again, night had truly fallen, and the sky was black as tar. Ezra gazed up at the sky, then frowned.

He sat up straight in his chair and looked harder. Then, breathing fast, he jumped out of his seat and ran to find someone. Ezra needed to warn the others about the catastrophe, and he needed to warn them _right now_.

Kanan, Sabine, and Zeb were nowhere to be found—they must have already gone to the meeting, and taken Chopper with them. (Ezra wondered if they had noticed the disaster yet… but no, they couldn’t have. They would have commed the _Ghost_ if they had seen it.) Fortunately Hera was in the galley, rummaging in a cupboard for a ration bar. She dropped what she was doing and gave Ezra her attention as soon as he crashed into the room.

“Ezra! What’s wrong?”

“It’s the stars. There’s something wrong with the stars!”

Hera looked confused, but she followed him at a run as he raced through the ship, heading outside. It was a clear night with no clouds, and the stars twinkled placidly in the distance. Ezra gaped up in dismay, but Hera still looked puzzled. “Ezra, I don’t understand. What’s the matter?”

His jaw dropped. “What’s the matter?! Hera, look!” He gestured frantically at the sky. “They’re all in the wrong place! They’re out of order! The Loth-cat should be right _here_ ,” Ezra said, pointing. “But it’s gone—they all are!”

Hera placed a steady hand on his shoulder. She said, “Ezra, I need you to pause and take a deep breath. This will all be fine—I promise.”

He tried to obey, but it was difficult. He still felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. The galaxy had turned upside down—the stars were out of place—and no one seemed to care. Why didn’t anyone care?

Hera was speaking again; Ezra tried to focus. “Is the Loth-cat a constellation from your homeworld, Ezra?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “And the Loth-wolf, and the Loth-rat—they’re all gone!”

“They’re not gone,” said Hera. “You just can’t see them from here.”

Ezra blinked at her. Hera sat down on the ground and beckoned him to join her. As he did, she started to explain: “The stars in constellations aren’t actually next to each other in space—they can be light-years apart. But from the perspective of a planet, they happen to look like neighbors in the sky.” She drew in the dirt to illustrate. “From a different planet, the perspective is different too, and the stars look like they’re in different places. They haven’t actually moved. It’s just we’re looking at them from another point of view.”

“But the stars looked normal in Garel,” Ezra pointed out, referencing a brief stop they had made a few days earlier. “Why are they different here?”

“That’s because Garel is so close to Lothal,” Hera said patiently. “It’s in the same sector, so Garel’s perspective on the rest of the galaxy is pretty similar to Lothal’s. But if you look carefully, you might notice some differences there too.”

“Oh,” said Ezra. He felt less panicked now, but he didn’t exactly feel better. His fear had been replaced with a deep sense of foolishness, not to mention embarrassment for his lack of education. But even those could not compare to the bitter, sinking feeling in his stomach. He drew his eyebrows together and stared at the ground; Hera noticed.

“What’s really wrong, Ezra?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s—it’s stupid. It’s just this thing my mom told me, back when I was a kid. Just a fairy tale.” He began doodling with his finger in the dirt beside him.

“She used to say, if I was ever lost, no matter where I was, all I had to do was follow the Loth-cat. And it would always lead me back home to her. But clearly, she was wrong.” Ezra swallowed hard and ruthlessly erased the Loth-cat he had drawn. “It’s a dumb story anyway.”

He was fighting to keep his face blank and his voice steady, but from the look on Hera’s face, it wasn’t working. At least there was no pity in her eyes—Ezra didn’t think he could bear pity right now—just genuine concern, and that particular brand of conviction that was 100% Hera.

“Your mom taught you that the stars can be your guide,” she said. “And she was right. You just need to know how to read them. If you think about it, that’s what I do every day when I pilot the _Ghost_.”

Hera smiled confidently. “Astrogation is all about knowing star patterns. And if you know them well enough, you’ll never be lost. We’ll look at some star-charts later and I’ll give you a tutorial on how to program a navicomputer—” Ezra perked up a little before she hastily added, “—not that you can expect to pilot _my_ ship any time soon.”

To his own surprise, Ezra found himself laughing a little. If there was one thing he could always count on, it was Hera’s protectiveness towards her ship. “Okay, Hera,” he said. “That would be great, thanks.”

She nodded approvingly. “We can do that tomorrow. But for tonight… how about star patterns of another sort?” At Ezra’s puzzled expression, she gestured up towards the night sky. “We’re not far from the planet where I grew up, so I’m familiar with the constellations here. You teach me about the star stories on Lothal, and I’ll show you the constellations that my mother taught me when I was a girl.”

It was a good plan. Sometimes Ezra felt like his life with his parents had been a dream, because it was so distant and far from his current reality. But as he shared the stories they had taught him, he felt that his parents almost seemed real again. Hera turned out to be a pretty good story-teller too, and learning this sector’s star-pictures made him feel a little less lost in the universe. The hours passed quickly and easily,  and for the first time in a long time, Ezra felt completely comfortable.

They were still up when the rest of the crew returned a few hours later, laughing loudly at each other’s jokes and showering him with cheerful greetings and pats on the back. Kanan smiled a silent apology for their earlier argument, and Ezra smiled back. And despite years of Loth-rat loneliness, Ezra began to dare to dream that maybe, just maybe, he could find a home here after all.

 

* * *

 

**_Lothal, 13 BBY_ **

_“Hey, Dad! Dad-Dad-Dad!” You tug insistently on his arm._

_“What is it, Ezra?” He is smiling at you, the way he always does, with soft eyes._

_“What’s your favorite con-station?”_

_Dad laughs aloud. “Probably the Axe. I’ve liked it ever since I was a kid, because it’s so easy to see. I wasn’t as clever as you are, Ezra – constellations were tricky for me to find. Actually, they still are,” he says ruefully. He points up at the sky. “It’s just there, directly above us – do you see the five stars in a perfectly straight line? That’s the handle. And the blade is a triangle at the top. Do you see it, Ezra?”_

_It takes a moment, but them suddenly it jumps out at you. “I see it, Dad!” you shout. Once you know what to look for, you can’t miss it. “So what’s the story?” you ask._

_“Story?” Dad laughs again. “Not every constellation has a myth attached. It’s just named after what it looks like. Sometimes you just have to call a spade a spade… or an axe an axe, in this case.”_

_You look to Mom for confirmation. The corners of her mouth are twitching, the way they always do when she secretly thinks one of Dad’s stupid jokes is hilarious (but doesn’t want to encourage him)._

_“It’s true,” she says, “I’ve never heard a story about the Axe, either. But there is a proverb. It comes from the Forestland of Lothal, where my ancestors are from.”_

_“There are forests on Lothal?” you ask, eyes wide. You’ve only seen forests in HoloNet shows, not real life. Until now, you’ve just assumed they were a fantasy, like unicorns and glooths and Jedi._

_“There used to be,” says Mom quietly. “But in any case, the saying goes: ‘An axe need not be large to topple a tree.’ Do you understand, Ezra?”_

_You nod automatically, then change your mind and shake your head._

_“It’s not really about axes or trees,” says Dad. “It’s a metaphor. It means that even the smallest person can overcome a mighty foe. You may be small, Ezra, but you have the power to turn the world upside down.”_

_“But Dad, I don’t have power. I don’t have muscles yet, like you do!” You wiggle your thin arms in the air to demonstrate._

_“You_ do _have power, Ezra,” says Dad. “You have a voice. And when you use your voice to speak up for people who need you—it may seem like a small thing, but it will make all the difference.”_

 

* * *

 

**Lothal, 3 BBY**

Darkness and dust and a horrible, implacable rumbling. Ezra huddled in place with his hands over his head, waiting. The crashing and the noise seemed to go on forever, and when it finally ended, the silence almost seemed worse. But he had to face the aftermath; he had to see if the others were okay. Ezra drew in a deep breath to call out their names, only to succumb to a fit of coughing. Darkness, dust, and his lungs forcibly attempting to exit his body.

“Ezra!” It was his master’s voice. “Ezra, are you all right?”

Finally, he managed to stop coughing. He looked to see where the voice was coming from, and saw nothing at all. For a moment, he wondered if his eyes were still closed, but logically he knew they couldn’t be. He could tell based on the feeling of gritty irritation from the dust floating through the air.

Ezra tried (unsuccessfully) to fight down the rising panic. “Kanan! Kanan, I’m blind!”

There was the familiar snap-hiss of an activating lightsaber, and suddenly he could see Kanan’s face eerily illuminated. The weapon’s glow made his master’s aqua eyes look blue and deeply mysterious. Kanan was looking at him with fond exasperation, and he felt a wave of relief in the Force. “You’re not blind, Ezra. It’s just dark in here; we lost our glowrods in the cave-in. But are you hurt?”

Sheepishly, Ezra shook his head and stood up. He was a little bruised, but it wasn’t worth complaining about. If anything, he was lucky. Their crew had been scouting out another planet as the site of a possible base. While Chopper waited on the _Ghost_ , the rest of them were exploring the network of caves and tunnels that ran underneath the surface. Theoretically, it could have been a good place to hide the growing Rebellion. But the cave system was fragile from decades of haphazard mining, and it was prone to collapse. They were about half a standard hour into their expedition when the inevitable happened.

There had been just enough time for Kanan to say, “I have a bad fee—” before the entire ceiling came down upon them. They had all dashed to take cover in a side tunnel, and with the assist of a Force push from Kanan, had apparently made it unscathed. Or at least, Kanan and Ezra were unscathed…

“Turn on your lightsaber,” instructed Kanan. “We have to find the others.”

“We’re all right!” came Hera’s voice. “We’re over here, and we’re all fine. No one is hurt.”

The side tunnel was narrow but long, and the other Spectres were further away than Ezra was expecting. His lightsaber definitely helped, and Ezra was glad that it wasn’t pitch black anymore. But a lightsaber wasn’t a lamp, and Ezra couldn’t see much beyond a cubit or so. He almost jumped when, after a few minutes of following the sounds of their voices, Zeb’s face abruptly appeared out of the darkness.

“There you are,” said Zeb. “What took you so long?”

“Well I guess with all the dust in the air, it was hard to recognize your stench!” Ezra shot back. The dust was mostly settled now, actually, but Ezra would never pass up an opportunity to antagonize his roommate.

Zeb scowled and balled up his fists. “Why I oughtta…!”

“Hey!” interrupted Sabine. “Is this really the time for roughhousing? Or maybe we should do something else like, oh, I don’t know, try to find a way out of here?”

“Sabine’s right,” said Hera. I’ve already tried to contact Chopper for help, but we’ve got no signal here. So we’ve going to have to figure this out ourselves—preferably before we start running out of oxygen.”

“Wait,” said Ezra. “What was that last part? About running out of oxygen?”

Kanan nodded grimly. “She makes a good point. With a collapse like that, our air supply might have been cut off. Or poison gases could build up, with the limited ventilation. We need to find an exit route—not just so that we can get out of here, but so that we can keep breathing.”

“Is there any chance of going back the way we came?” asked Sabine. She held up a few explosives that she had brought along, just in case. “I have some _surprises_ that we could use to clear the blockage. And that way, we’ll be back in the main passageway and know where we are. I don’t think this side tunnel was on any of our maps.”

Kanan shook his head. “No, it’s too unstable. We might end up bringing the whole thing down.”

Not blowing stuff up was always a disappointment for Sabine. She huffed and said, “All right, Mr. Geology. What do you know about unstable old mines, anyway, Kanan?”

“More than you might think,” he said with a smirk, and Hera suppressed a smile behind her hand.

“It’s less than ideal, but we’ll have to look for a new way out through this side tunnel,” she said.

“But if it’s not on our map, how do we know it’s passable?” asked Ezra.

“We don’t,” said Kanan. “But we don’t exactly have a choice.”

“I hate caves,” grumbled Zeb, which seemed like as good a cue as any to begin their search. They started off down the tunnel—sometimes in single file when the way became too narrow, other times forced to duck or scramble over irregular surfaces. There were a few tight squeezes for Zeb—Lasats were not built to navigate tight quarters—but he managed to shimmy his way through. Kanan led with his lightsaber ignited, and Ezra stayed towards the middle of the group to help light the path. Even with both lightsabers, it was very dark. There wasn’t a lot of chatter, and for the most part the only sound was the echo of their footsteps. Unfortunately, the relative silence gave Ezra a little too much time to sink into his own thoughts. As they walked, Ezra became acutely aware of how alone they were. Nobody knew their exact location. Chopper would figure out that something was wrong eventually when they missed their check-in, but this planet’s cave systems were massive, and it could take days for the Rebellion to find then. Or even weeks… or maybe they’d never be found at all. Maybe they’d end up skeletons, like the old Jedi masters in the temple on Lothal who had died waiting for their failed padawans.

Ezra was so busy trying (unsuccessfully) not to think about it that he didn’t notice when the others stopped walking, and he accidentally bumped into Sabine. “Watch it, kid!” she said. He distractedly mumbled an apology as he looked around, orienting himself to the situation.

They had come to a crossroads. But it wasn’t just a simple fork in the path; there were no less than five different tunnels splitting off. Hera was frowning at her portable holomap. She shook her head and shut it off, saying: “I was double-checking, just in case. But we’re way off the map at this point. None of these tunnels are marked at all.”

Sabine was tilting her head in that particular way that meant she was using her helmet’s technology. “My readings are saying we’ve gotten pretty close to the surface. But the problem is actually breaking through.” She paused, then added, “We could make a new exit ourselves with my explosives.”

But Hera was already shaking her head. “Still too risky. Maybe if we had a different tool, but I don’t want us to risk another cave-in.”

“Karabast,” said Zeb. “So what’s the plan? Because I’m not exactly in the mood to get hopelessly lost down here.”

“Neither am I,” said Kanan. “And we won’t. Ezra, c’mere.”

Oh great. Another life-or-death Jedi teachable moment. He and Kanan had come a long way since Ezra’s first days on the _Ghost_ , and Kanan was everything he could ever want from a Jedi master. But still, Ezra wasn’t always thrilled with the general level of peril involved in his training.

 He reluctantly approached, and Kanan put a hand on his shoulder.

“We need you to decide which way to go. Close your eyes and reach out. What is the Force telling you? Don’t think—just feel. _Listen._ ”

At first there was nothing, and Ezra almost assumed that he was just doing it wrong. But then in the fourth tunnel he thought he felt something stirring, something alive. Actually, no—not something, but _somethings_ —a million tiny voices, ringing out like Garellian bells. He could just barely hear them, and they weren’t exactly using words. But Ezra still sensed they were sending him a message: _light_ and _beauty_ and _come this way!_

Ezra opened his eyes and pointed. “It’s this way.”

To his mild surprise, no one protested. This time Ezra led the way, but he had to crouch to avoid hitting his head; this tunnel was much smaller than the one they had come from. In fact, he had only gone a few meters before he was interrupted by a voice from behind.

“Uh, you guys?” Zeb had paused with his head ducked partway into the tunnel. “I actually don’t this route is gonna work for me.”

Ezra frowned. He hadn’t thought of that.

“Yeah… I’m not so sure it’ll work for me either, to be honest,” said Kanan, looking cramped. “And it might get smaller down the road.”

“Okay, change of plans,” said Hera. “Ezra, we still trust your instincts on this route. You and Sabine go scout it out, then come back and let us know what you’ve found. We’ll be right at the crossroads waiting, and when you get back we can all try another tunnel.”

Sabine nodded, but Ezra grimaced. “Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of leaving you guys behind. Maybe we can just pick a different path.”

“You’re not leaving us behind, you’re going on a scouting mission,” soothed Kanan. “And besides, the Force told you to go down this path for a reason. So you’d better go and find out what that reason is.”

As Sabine and Ezra continued on, he had to admit to himself that Kanan and Zeb would never have gotten far in this tunnel. Even Hera might have run into trouble with her lekku. Before long, they gave up on trying to walk upright and ended up crawling. Ezra was a little annoyed that he had somehow managed to end up in a ventilation-shaft-like environment, _again_. But he was soon distracted from the dismal surroundings by the voices, which were soft but growing louder in the Force. There seemed to be thousands of them, each singing a different melody, but resonating together like a choir. They were all very high-pitched, but in a way that was heavenly rather than grating. Ezra thought they might be the prettiest thing he had heard in his life.

The guidance of the Force had never sounded quite like this before. It was almost as if a host of real beings were calling to him, not just a nebulous energy field. But he couldn’t imagine who it could be. The only sentients with any business in a place like this would be miners, but this planet’s mines had been abandoned for decades. Ezra closed his eyes to focus on listening, wondering what they would discover at the tunnel’s end. He thought they must be getting closer, since the tunnel had been getting progressively larger for quite some time. At this point he and Sabine were walking upright again, nearly side by side. And then suddenly he wasn’t, because something had grabbed him from behind and yanked him backwards.

“Whoa!” Ezra’s eyes flew open as he flailed for balance.

Sabine steadied him, and it quickly became apparent that she was the one who had grabbed him in the first place. They were standing at the edge of a steep drop into darkness, and he had almost walked straight into it. On the left of the path, a stone wall continued on from the tunnel, but on the right there was nothing but emptiness. It was too dark to see how deep or wide the chasm was.

“You shouldn’t spelunk with your eyes shut,” Sabine said.

“I wasn’t spelunking!” protested Ezra. (He wished Zeb were there so he could ask what “spelunking” meant.)

Sabine was still wearing her helmet, so he couldn’t see her face, but he was pretty sure she rolled her eyes. (She did that a lot.) “Come on,” she said, and they gingerly continued along the ledge, hugging the wall.

There was a blind curve on the path ahead. Ezra turned the corner, and his jaw dropped. Behind him, he could hear Sabine gasp.

Ahead of them was a vast, cavernous space, illuminated by a million pinpricks of pale blue light. The chasm below was much wider than Ezra had thought—it was essentially an underground canyon, and he thought he could see a shimmering stream at the bottom. High above, the ceiling was sculpted like a work of art, and light bounced off the stalactites as if they were the galaxy’s most extravagant chandeliers. Further away, it was too dim to see the rock that formed the ceiling, and the pinpricks of light seemed to shine out from nothingness like stars.

Out of the darkness, the cave wasn’t scary. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” breathed Sabine, removing her helmet. “What are they?” She was referring to the lights.

“No idea,” said Ezra, still awestruck. A little ways down the path, there were some lights scattered along the near wall. He approached them, and a moment later exclaimed in delight: “I think they’re glow worms, Sabine! So that’s where the singing was from.” A million bright little beings, making the world better simply by existing.

“Worms!” said Sabine in fascination. She drew closer, and Ezra could see their blue glow reflected in her amber eyes. “Amazing that something so small can create so much light.” She carefully raised a finger up to one, but didn’t touch it. She just looked, and marveled.

Ezra sat on the ground, dangled his legs off the edge of the canyon, and looked up and out. If he used a little imagination, he could almost draw star-pictures out of the glow worms in his mind. There was Zeb’s bo-rifle, an unbroken line of lights shining brightest at the ends. To its left was Chopper’s antenna, with its central spike at a right angle to the circular disk. And of course there was the _Ghost_ itself, swooping in to save the day, upside down to highlight Hera’s fancy flying.

“I wish I could paint this right now,” sighed Sabine, sitting down next to him.

“I wish you could too,” said Ezra. “Then I could see it forever.” He hesitated, then turned to her and asked, “But do you think the Force called us down here just for a pretty view?”

“Maybe,” said Sabine with a shrug. “Beauty has the power the change the universe.”

Ezra wasn’t so sure. His parents and his life before they were taken had been beautiful, and that hadn’t saved them from the Empire. But he wouldn’t argue about it with Sabine. They were quiet for a few moments, gazing outwards. Then Sabine said, “Still, we should look carefully. I don’t see a way out—this canyon is too steep for us without proper equipment—but maybe there’s something else we’re meant to find.”

Ezra agreed. They stood up and made their way along the ledge, going slowly and carefully—it was a long way down. At first there did not seem to be anything particularly useful, but then Sabine spotted something.

“Look!” she said, pointing. There, situated in a little nook in the cave wall, was a shelf. Sitting on the shelf, against all odds, was an old-fashioned lantern, a coil of rope, and a pickaxe.

“What, seriously?” said Ezra. He peered at it as if an explanatory sign would suddenly appear if he stared long enough.

“Of course, it totally makes sense,” said Sabine, tapping her head. “This was a mine. So the miners used to leave emergency equipment here, just in case. A lantern, in case they lost theirs like we did. Rope for climbing. And a pickaxe to dig themselves out of trouble.”

 “But why only here? I mean, if you’re lost in a mine, I feel like the chances of happening to find this is kind of low. There are too many other paths,” said Ezra.

 “Maybe this isn’t the only one. Maybe they were supply stations along the way the whole time, and it was just too dark for us to see them.”

“Well, thank the Force for glow worms,” said Ezra, and he thought he heard their voices ring out a bit stronger in response.

Sabine picked up the antique lantern and fiddled with it. “Let’s bring this stuff back,” she said. “We’ve been gone for a while; the others might be getting worried.”

Ezra grabbed the pickaxe and the rope while Sabine managed to revive the lantern, despite its many years of disuse. As they left the cavern and stepped back into darkness, Ezra cast a grateful backwards glance towards the glow worms. _Goodbye_ , he thought. _And thanks!_

Getting through the tunnel was a little more awkward this time (since their hands were occupied with their newfound tools), but they managed it. And things were a little brighter this time, with the added light of the lantern. As they approached their starting point, they could hear echoes of raucous laughter, punctuated by a few miserable Lasat groans. Sabine and Ezra exchanged puzzled glances. Finally, they emerged at the crossroads.

“Oh thank the Ashla, you’re back,” said Zeb. “These two won’t quit talking about the last time they were in a mine, when they blew up a moon. If I have to hear one more story about that particular escapade, I think I might take my chances with one of these blasted tunnels. _Alone_. Anything for some peace and quiet.”

Sabine froze in her tracks, then rounded on Hera. “Wait, hold up—is he saying that you _exploded a moon_ , and yet you’ve been telling me all day I can’t use a tiny bomb to get us out of this cave?”

“No, we _stopped_ the moon from exploding. Completely different,” said Hera.

“To be fair, some moon-exploding did take place. But not by us,” said Kanan. “Now, there was a _starship_ that got completely blown apart, but that wasn’t exactly us either…”

“Unbelievable,” muttered Sabine.

“Like I said, an explosion under these conditions would be too dangerous,” said Hera. She pointed at the pickaxe in Ezra’s hand. “But _that_ might just do the trick. Where on earth did you find that?”

“It’s a long story,” said Ezra.

“Uh, not really,” countered Sabine, and she quickly explained the whole thing.

“That’s great! Good job, you two. I knew we could count on you,” said Kanan. He tapped on the side of the tunnel. “Let’s start digging here. For once, I have a good feeling about this!”

 

* * *

 

**_Lothal, 13 BBY_ **

_“Okay, Dad said his favorite. Which one’s your favorite, Mom?”_

_“It’s right… there.” She points at the inky space between the twin moons—Older Sister in crescent, Younger Brother nearly full. You squint upwards, but all you can see is a few scattered pinpricks—not enough for a constellation of any significance._

_“Mom,” you say patiently, “I mean a_ real _constellation, not an imagine one!”_

_“It is real! You just can’t see it right now. But you don’t always have to see something to know it’s there,” says Mom. “Have you ever heard the story of the Phoenix, Ezra? The Firebird?” When you shake your head, she goes on: “It’s the most beautiful bird you can imagine. It has golden and scarlet feathers. It soars on broad, brilliant wings, and when it looks you in the eye, you can tell it knows all about you. But it is forever doomed to perish in fire.”_

_“What’s perish mean?”_

_“It means to die, Ezra,” says Dad gently. Your eyes go wide. You are young, but you know what it means to die in fire. You remember a few years ago, when the Empire burned down the local NewsNet office with people still inside. You were very small at the time, and Mom and Dad tried to keep you from seeing, but you will never forget the smell._

_Mom tries to comfort you with a hug. “But listen, Ezra—that’s not the end of the story. The Firebird doesn’t stay dead. It comes alive again, reborn from its own ashes, and it brings light and hope wherever it goes.”_

_She points at the sky again. “The Firebird lives between the moons, so you usually can’t see its light because the surroundings are too bright. But every so often, on Lothal’s darkest nights when both moons are in shadow, you can see the Firebird bursting to life again.”_

_“Wow.” You stare up in wonder, then ask: “You’ve seen it, Mom?”_

_She nods. “Yes, Ezra. The Firebird was in flight the night you were born.”_

 

* * *

 

**Oon, 2 BBY**

Not for the first time in his life, Ezra found himself careening face-first into an overgrown shrubbery.

He spat out leaves and kept running, this time along the hedge rather than into it. It had been a while since he had been this clumsy—Hera said he was finally growing into his body, whatever that meant—but running through an unfamiliar city while dodging stormtroopers wasn’t so easy. And it didn’t help that every few seconds, his eyes kept darting to Kanan to make sure he was keeping up. It was hard to run if you couldn’t see where you were going.

“Look out!” Ezra yelled. Kanan ducked, and a blaster bolt sailed over his head. Too close.

It had been intended to be an easy mission—pretend to be beggars as cover for eavesdropping, hang around some Imperial buildings on Oon, and try to gather some intel on possible sources of supplies. After all, they figured no one would look twice at a couple of beggars, especially if one was blind. They hadn’t counted on the Empire’s strict enforcement of anti-vagrancy policy, and the plan went south (as usual). And since they were meant to be operating under the radar, they couldn’t exactly stand and fight back.

Now they were running for their lives, and Ezra was terrified. Not for himself—Ezra was used to having angry people chasing him, stormtroopers or otherwise—but for Kanan. He had gotten pretty good at navigating without his sight over the last few months, one cautious arm uplifted to keep him from bumping into anything. Ezra had even seen Kanan running in an open area, as surefooted and confident as ever. But this was practically a high-speed obstacle course, and even with the Force helping him, Ezra wasn’t sure how much longer Kanan could go without crashing into something.

“Turn left!” he shouted, and they ducked into an alleyway that led to a seedier part of the city. It was harder to run here, though hopefully it would also be harder for the troopers to find them. The streets were narrow with tall, leaning buildings on either side, casting deep shadows that made it even trickier to navigate. And it was maze-like, too, with abrupt twists and turns—more than once, Ezra found himself slamming into a wall with the momentum of the chase. The cobblestones were slick with rotten produce, overflowing sewage, and Force-knows what else. But the worst part by far was the crowd. Before the streets had been fairly empty, but now the townspeople were leaving work _en masse_. It was practically pedestrian rush hour.

Ezra abruptly leapt to the side to avoid a blaster bolt, and smashed directly into a fruit seller’s jogan stand. It collapsed beneath him, and as he struggled to his feet he heard the stormtroopers getting closer.  “Sorry!” he called over his shoulder, as he took off running again.

But they weren’t just destroying innocent bystander’s shops; they were putting them at risk of the Empire’s blasterfire. Kanan must have had the same thought, because he shouted urgently, “We’ve got to get off the street. Away from all these people.”

Ezra nodded despite himself, before remembering that Kanan couldn’t see it. Old habits. They began to run even faster, and Ezra shot a glance behind him. He couldn’t see any stormtroopers now, though they could not have been far behind. He could see Kanan a few steps away, running with an arm outstretched. And then suddenly, he couldn’t see anything at all.

For a disorientated second, Ezra couldn’t make heads or tails of his situation. His head throbbed. There was something slick and cold and hard under his double-gloved hands. His vision cleared, and he was looking at the dusky sky through a narrow crack between buildings. Why was he looking at the sky…?

Kanan’s face came in to view, looming above him. Of course. He must have slipped on the wet pavement. He had fallen, and as always, Kanan was there to help him up. “ _Ezra!_ ” said Kanan. “Are you all right?” There was a faint undertone of panic in his voice, Ezra had the sudden notion that Kanan might have asked this a few times already. He should probably answer.

“I’m fine,” said Ezra. He took Kanan’s hand and went to stand, then almost collapsed with a pained gasp. “Um, mostly fine,” he amended.

“What is it?” demanded Kanan, bracing his shoulders.

“My ankle.  I must have twisted it. But it’s okay, we gotta go. Come on!” They took off again at a limping run, this time with Kanan doing his best to support Ezra. But it was tough going, and the sound of the approaching stormtroopers was getting louder.

“We have to get off the street,” said Kanan again. And in a sudden moment of loth-rat clarity, Ezra knew what to do.

“I have an idea! Kanan, come on!” He lurched down the street, eyes peeled for what had saved him many a time during his childhood on the streets of Lothal. _There_ —a building with a fire-escape! The ladder was rickety and nearly defunct, and it reached only partway to the ground. But there was also a nearby dumpster piled high with trash, tall enough to let them reach the second floor window ledge if they stood on top of it. And from there, they could reach the fire escape to climb up to the roof. It wasn’t perfect, but it should at least get them off street level. The stormtroopers at this outpost were dull and lazy; they would never think to look up, and even if they did, they probably would be disinclined to follow them vertically.

It was awkward and painful, with his injured ankle and Kanan’s inability to see the handholds for their climb, but ultimately they made it. And just in time, too—Ezra could hear the stormtroopers passing directly below them, seconds after they cleared the roof. A few moments later, everything was quiet.

Finally, Kanan let out a sigh of relief. Ezra would have done the same, but he found himself suddenly overtaken by a wave of nausea. He staggered a few steps away and promptly was sick over the edge of the building. Ezra heard some faint exclamations of protest from below and shrank back, embarrassed. Oops.

Kanan grabbed his shoulder, tugged him away from the edge, and made him sit down. Ezra risked a glance up at him. Kanan had been harder to read ever since Malachor—both through the Force and through his masked facial expressions—but it easy to tell that right now, he was frustrated.

“I’m sorry,” said Ezra instinctively.

“Don’t be,” said Kanan, shaking his head. “None of this is your fault.”

They were both silent for a moment, then Kanan sighed heavily again and ran a hand over his face. He wasn’t wearing his usual mask; he had a bandage around his eyes instead, as part of his beggar’s disguise, like in the days right after his injury. But Sabine had employed her artistic talents to make this bandage look crusty and dirty, smeared with yellow and rusty brown. It made Ezra feel sick to look at it.

Kanan spoke again: “I just wish I could get you back to the base. You hit your head hard back there—you probably threw up because you have a concussion. And your ankle could also use medical attention. But our pick-up isn’t scheduled until tomorrow morning, and it would be too risky for them to come right now, with all the stormtroopers still looking for us. We’ll have to stay here overnight, wait for things to die down.”

He walked away, presumably to work out some of his frustration by pacing. Ezra stayed put and closed his eyes, feeling a little miserable. He wasn’t feeling sick anymore, but his head was still pounding and his ankle was on fire. He was smelly and grimy too, due to his disguise, and now that they had stopped running he could feel the chill of the night air. Ezra shivered, and then nearly jumped when he felt a soft warmth drop over his shoulders. He opened his eyes and found that Kanan had draped him with a worn but cozy blanket.

“I can’t fix your head and I can’t fix your ankle, but I can at least keep you warm, kid.” Kanan settled himself next to Ezra, a cloak of his own wrapped around his shoulders.

Ezra hummed gratefully. “Where’d you get these?”

Kanan gestured vaguely to the other side of the roof. “There are some clotheslines over there. Lots of things hanging out to dry.”

“But how did you know? I mean…” Ezra faltered. It had been months, but it was still hard for him to talk about Kanan’s blindness out loud.

Kanan smiled wryly. “A Jedi master has to have some secrets, right? Now, show me your ankle. We should at least take a look, even if we can’t treat it properly.”

Fortunately it seemed to just be badly sprained, not broken, though it was hard to be completely sure. Kanan wrapped Ezra’s ankle with some makeshift bandages (cloth strips “borrowed” from the clothesline), propped it up on a folded stack of shirts, and sternly instructed him to keep it elevated. “Sure thing, master,” Ezra replied through a yawn, shifting carefully to lie flat on his back with his leg still elevated. He was in no mood to argue. It had been a long day, and the sun had set a long time ago. All he wanted to do now was sleep until sunrise.

Of course, as soon as he started to drift off, he was interrupted by a sharp poke to his shoulder. Ezra opened his eyes to see that Kanan had also lied down. But instead of sleeping like any sensible person, Kanan he was facing him seriously, hand outstretched and ready to poke him again if necessary.

“What is it, Kanan?” said Ezra dully, vainly trying to scooch out of poking distance.

“I don’t know if sleeping is the best idea right now. Not without knowing how bad your head is hurt.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Well there aren’t exactly a lot of options here. It’s not like we can watch a holovid.”

“There’s still good old-fashioned _talking_ , Ezra,” said Kanan, sounding a bit crotchetier than someone his age had the right to be. “Hey,” he said, poking his shoulder again. “Look up. Tell me what you see.”

“Just the stars. Because it’s nighttime. You know, when normal people go to sleep?”

Kanan was undeterred. “I know you like stargazing. See any constellations you know?”

Despite his intended commitment to surliness, Ezra had to admit he was genuinely interested in this question. It took a moment, since the city had its fair share of light pollution, but before long he identified some familiar patterns.

“Yeah. Yeah, actually. I guess we’re close enough to Lothal that the sky is similar.”

“All right, so be my eyes,” said Kanan. “Talk me through your constellations.”

So he did. Ezra told him about the Loth-rat, the Loth-cat, and the Loth-wolf; the Gatherer and the Scatterer; the Spine-tree, the Ship, and the Axe. Kanan chuckled when he shared the story of the Helmet, and he hummed in all the right places during the tale of the Orchard Seeder—almost as if he were actually from Lothal.

Ezra was beginning to run out of constellations within his view. Wrapping things up, he said, “And then there’s the Firebird, but you can’t see it.”

“Kid, I can’t see _any_ of them,” Kanan said drily.

A joke. Just a few weeks ago, Ezra would have taken it as proof of Kanan’s bitterness. And maybe he wouldn’t have been wrong. But things had changed, ever since Reklam Station, and now he could see his master’s old sense of humor shining through. Kanan was becoming himself again. (And Ezra was becoming himself again, too.)

Ezra let out a laugh. “I know! No, I mean nobody can see it. Not most of the time, anyway. My mom told me that the Firebird lives between the moons, and you can only see it when they are both in shadow. When things are darkest, it rises from the ashes to bring light and hope to Lothal.” He stared hard at the space between the moons, as if he could wish the Firebird into being. Quietly, he admitted, “I’ve never seen it. It only comes every few decades. But it was my mom’s favorite, and when I was little I thought maybe I’d see it one day, with her.”

To his horror, Ezra realized that his eyes were beginning to well up.  Well, kriff it. He was already emotional; he might as well keep going.

“I know it’s just a story. But I really could have used the Firebird during some of the dark times in my life. Like when the Empire took my parents away, and then when they… when they died. And Malachor—Kanan, that was the worst day of my life. Because you lost your eyes, and Ahsoka _died_ , and it didn’t just happen because of the Empire. It happened because of _me_.”

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut; all the stars were blurring together anyway, with his tears. He felt Kanan’s hand on his shoulder.

“Ezra,” he said. “You know I’ve never blamed you. And Ahsoka wouldn’t, either.”

“I know,” he replied weakly. “I guess I’m just still learning how not to blame myself.”

“Yeah, I know a thing or two about that,” mused Kanan. He started fidgeting with the edge of his cloak. “In my darkest days—when the Jedi were betrayed and my master was killed—I spent most of my time feeling guilty. I blamed myself for not protecting my master. For running away. For living when everyone I cared about was dead.” He sighed, then added. “It took me a long time to find hope again; I was lost for years.”

“But how did you get found?”

Kanan gave a dopey grin, the way he always did when thinking about a certain Twi’lek. “I met Hera. I guess you could say she was my Firebird. Still is, when I have bad days. Her, and you, and Zeb, and Sabine…”

“And Chopper?”

“Ugh, if you insist.”

They both snickered.

“We still have a couple hours till dawn,” said Kanan, changing the subject. “On Coruscant, it was too bright to see the stars much. But my master once told me about the constellations from her home world.” He hastily added, “You wouldn't be able to see them from here. I haven’t seen them myself; I’ve never been to Chalacta. But she told me all about them, and I could pass them down to you. If you want.”

The answer was an enthusiastic yes. Ezra closed his eyes and let Kanan’s words paint starry pictures from a long time ago, far, far away.

 

* * *

 

**_Lothal, 13 BBY_ **

_“Oh, here’s a good one,” Mom says. “You see that big curve of stars, right above the Axe? And then just next to it, a set of stars that look like a stick figure?”_

_You do._

_“Well done,” says Mom. “That’s Hephzibah, and I will tell you about her. This is a story about the ancient days of Lothal, when the Land and the Sea were still at war with each other. The Sea wanted to rise up and cover the whole planet, but of course the Land wanted to have some space too. And since the Land was the only place where people could grow their crops and raise their families, the people of Lothal wanted to protect the Land too._

_Every day, the Sea would surge up to flood the Land. And every day, the people would see the Sea coming, and hurry to put up high shields along the coast. They couldn’t keep the shields up all the time—they didn’t have the technology, back in those days—but they were always ready whenever the Sea came to sweep them away._

_“In those days there lived a young woman, in a little home just outside the city, near the seaside. She lived with her family and her pet tooka, and they were all very happy.”_

_“Just like us!” you interject, and Mom smiles at you._

_“That’s right, Ezra. Just like us. Her name was Hephzibah. Hephzibah had a very special job. Can you guess what it was?”_

_“Was she a jogan-cake maker?” You love jogan-cakes._

_Mom and Dad both laugh. “It’s a good guess, but no. Actually, she was the Dawn-Waker. Every morning, it was her job to get up before anyone else on Lothal, and tell the Sun it was time to rise.”_

_Your jaw drops. “She was the Sun’s alarm chrono?”_

_Dad ruffles your hair. “It’s just a story, Ezra—the Sun doesn’t actually_ _work that way. But yes, that was her job. Without her, the day wouldn’t begin. To wake the dawn, she had a special horn that she would play. It was made of a spiral shell from the Sea—have you ever seen one, Ezra?”_

_You haven’t. Mom and Dad don’t seem surprised, but you feel that they might be a little sad about that._

_“Traditional Lothalian music hasn’t been allowed in a long time. But the spiralshell horn used to be a very important part of our culture. It was shaped a bit like a long, narrow cone, like this.” Mom traces an outline in the air to demonstrate. “And it made the most beautiful music—but very loud!”_

_“It would have to be loud to reach the Sun and wake him up,” explains Dad._

_“Right,” says Mom. “So anyway, back to the war between the Land and the Sea. The Sea was getting tired of trying to attack over and over, only to have the people stop him with their shields. So one day, he got wise, and instead of trying to take over during the day, he waited till it was night. In fact, it was a very dark night, because in the ancient days there was only one moon. Older Sister was there, but Younger Brother had not been born yet. So it was very hard to see._

_“Almost everyone on Lothal was asleep in their beds. But Hephzibah was awake, because she had to be up and ready to wake the dawn at just the right moment. She saw the Sea coming, and even though it was still night, she blew her horn to wake the Sun. She played so long and so loud that not only did she wake the Sun, but she woke all of the people! And when they got out of their beds and looked out into the sunlight, they all saw that the Sea was trying to overtake them._

_“The Sea was furious and swept Hephzibah away in a giant wave, but it was too late—the people had already been warned. They put up their shields, and the Sea had to go away again. The Sea was ashamed to have been beaten by a humble girl.”_

_“Ooooh noooo!” cries Dad dramatically, pretending to be the flustered Sea, waving his arms around. You giggle._

_“In fact,” continues Mom, “he was so embarrassed that he finally left for good, and never overstepped his boundaries again. The Land and Sea could finally live in balance with each other, and the people of Lothal could live peaceful lives. The whole planet rejoiced, and they honored Hephzibah for her sacrifice  Ezra, do you know what a memorial is?”_

_“Is it like a memory?” you guess._

_“That’s close,” says Dad. “A memorial is something you make, to help you remember. We make memorials to honor important people and events, things we don’t want to forget.”_

_“Everyone wanted to remember Hephzibah’s sacrifice,” says Mom. “In fact, the Land itself was so grateful that it formed many memorials all across the planet, all in the shape of Hephzibah’s spiralshell horn. Do you see?” Mom points at the mountains in the distance. “And the people celebrated her memory, too. Even to this day, when Lothalian women wear tall head-coverings, it is symbolic of Hephzibah’s horn.”_

_“And finally,” says Dad, “the Sun made a memorial. Remember, they had been friends—she used to play music for him every day. So he took a bit of light from his heart and scattered it out in pieces across the sky. The light took on Hepzibah’s shape, and that’s the constellation we see today.”_

_They are both silent for several moments. At first you wait patiently. Maybe they have forgotten the next part? (It must be difficult to remember so many stories!)_

_“And then what?” you finally prompt._

_“And then…? That was it, Ezra. The end.”_

_“What?” You sit up look at your parents reproachfully. “Mom, that can’t be the ending. It’s not happy.”_

_“Well, Lothal was saved,” says Mom, stroking your hair. “I think that’s pretty happy, don’t you?”_

_“But what about Hephzibah? What about her family, and her pet tooka? And all the other people? What was Lothal s’pposed to do without anyone to wake up the Sun?”_

_“I’m sure her family missed her a lot, Ezra,” says Dad gently. “But they also must have been thankful to her for saving them. And maybe they learned how to become Dawn-Wakers, after Hephzibah was gone.”_

_“Also,” says Mom, “any time they were lonely, they could look up at the stars and see her shining down on them.”_

_But you are crying in earnest now, and you will not be consoled. Soon Mom and Dad have to pack up the blanket and partly-assembled telescope and take you home, because the night has been ruined. Dad holds you gently and says it’s far past your bedtime, as if that is why you’re so upset. But it’s more than that. There’s something that frightens you deeply about the story of Hephzibah—the story with a happy ending for everyone except the person who deserves it most._

_You try not to think about it, and you actually manage to forget until a few months later, when you’re meant to celebrate your seventh birthday. But instead of having a party, you lose your parents forever._

_After that, Hephzibah’s story haunts you almost every night._

 

* * *

 

**Lothal, 1 BBY**

Ezra passed through solid rock and emerged in a world full of stars.

To be honest, he hadn’t known exactly what to expect from this mission to the Jedi Temple—the creature called Dume had been painfully cryptic—but nothing could have prepared him for this.

Countless pathways swooped through the starry void, connecting distant arches that seemed to lead to even more starry void. There was not a being in sight, but Ezra didn’t think he was alone; there were voices everywhere.

_…a conduit through which the entire Force of the universe flows…_

_Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter…_

_…when you think you understand the Force, you find out how little…_

_The Force is what gives a Jedi his power…_

Wait, was that Master Kenobi? And he was _sure_ he had heard Master Yoda’s craggy voice too, somewhere in the midst of the echoes. He called out for them, but no one answered. The voices just kept coming, echoing from all around, layering over each other so that he could barely make out the words.

_We’ll see each other again…_

_…I will finish…what you started…_

But even beyond the mysterious voices and the floating paths and the glowing gateways, Ezra couldn’t help but be transfixed by the stars. Everywhere he looked, he recognized a constellation. At first he thought he might be able to use them to get an idea of what part of the galaxy he’d ended up in—Ezra wouldn’t assume he was still on Lothal—but he quickly realized that wouldn’t work. The constellations didn’t come from just one system or sector. They were from _everywhere_.

He recognized several Lothalian constellations of course. The Loth-wolf was everywhere—not just once, but repeated around the original gateway and scattered throughout the sky, its stars outlined in bright white.

But there were also constellations that Sabine had taught him while on Krownest, like the Mand’alor and the Vambrace. He saw the Warrior and the Child of Lasat legend, and the Princess and the Water Keeper from Hera’s Rylothian stories. There were other constellations that he’d picked up during the _Ghost’s_ journeys through the galaxy, as well—the Tree-drum, the Fambaa, the Toscwon, and the Twelve Crowns. Somehow Ezra even recognized the constellations Kanan had passed down from his own master, despite never having seen them in his life: the Bantha, the Braid, and the Unclosing Eye. They were all jumbled together, not at all where he’d expect them to be in their native skies, with one world’s constellations tripping over another’s.

It shouldn’t be possible—after all, a particular star could only be in one place at a time, not in many different positions and constellations all at once—but maybe those sorts of limitations weren’t important here. So Ezra followed the constellations as he wandered, letting the echoing voices wash over him.

_…will not be intimidated by you…_

_The belonging you seek is not behind you…_

_…but you might make it as mine…_

_Whoo! Whoo-whoo!_

Wait a second. That last voice was different from the others. As he approached, Ezra immediately realized why. This voice belonged to a being he could actually see—a green and white bird, perched over a circular portal within a triangular frame.

“Hey! I’ve seen you before,” Ezra said.

Everything seemed to happen very quickly after that.

 Ahsoka was somehow alive again. Kanan was somehow still dead. And then a Sith was coming after them, chasing them across time and space with blue flames that burned cold as ice.

Ezra plunged through the starry ring of wolves back to Lothal and hit the ground hard, trying to catch his breath. If it were up to him, he would have collapsed and stayed there for a long time. He was exhausted and drained from his narrow escape, from crossing through the portals, from losing his master _again_ —but there was no time. He had to close the portal.

They were running again, running and dodging blasterfire, and it was all he could do just to stay on his feet. Sabine showed him the way, and with a boost from Zeb, Ezra raised his fist to the image. He listened to the stone and its story, like Kanan had taught him. And with all his remaining strength, he focused on letting go.

_The future, by its nature… can be changed…_

The painting began to glow red. And then Ezra was falling backwards, but he never felt himself hit the ground.  Instead, he was lost in a flood of images, voices, and feelings in the Force.

_It’s now or never._

                           —all his friends from across the universe, joining together to help—

_We just need one person._

_Do you want to tell her, or should I?_

                                     —the woman who murdered his master, now their secret weapon against the Empire—

_…more creative than you thought…_

_You got your wolf pack back!_

                                                —the ancient defenders of Lothal, coming to the rescue—

_…utilize protocol 13…_

_…um, was that the plan?_

_I know what I have to do now._

                                                         —finishing the mission for the entire planet—

_Whatever happens to us now…_

_Come and find me!_

_…happens to both of us…_

                                                                  —the feeling of being alone, without his family, again—but this time by choice—

                                                                                                              … _found the moment when he was needed most…_

_One last time._

Ezra wavered between the vision and the here-and-now. He dragged his eyelids open just long enough to glimpse the temple shuddering and twisting, before the vision overtook him again.

_It’s gonna be close!_

_…destroy your city…and then your friends…._

_I understand that you think you need to do this, but_ —

                       —Hera, both hands gripping his shoulders like she could keep him safe forever if she just held on—

_There’s always another way._

He managed to open his eyes again (but then weren’t they open already?) and saw Hera gazing down at him with concern, as their vehicle rocked precariously. He wanted to tell her that there was no other way, but he could barely see straight, let alone speak.

Then he was sinking deep into the Force again, and the image he saw changed.

But this time, it was different from his other visions. Those were mainly flashes of the future, cut haphazardly out of space and time and pasted together disjointedly. This was something else altogether, something complete and whole. All of his visions felt real, but this one felt _solid_ too.

If anything, it felt more like a memory than a vision. But maybe that was because he had been here many, many times before.

He and Kanan were sitting on the entrance ramp of the _Ghost_ , with the Lothalian savannah stretching out ahead of them in every direction. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows and turning everything gold. It was summertime and comfortably warm, but Ezra could feel a cool breeze playing with his hair. Some hair blew into his face, and he pushed it out of his eyes.

He knew Kanan was there—he could sense his presence like a soothing balm in the Force—but he had yet to actually look at him.

He was afraid to try. If he turned to face him, Ezra might see what he had seen the last two times he’d looked at Kanan: his master dying in flames because he couldn’t save him.

“You’re not really here, are you,” said Ezra, staring resolutely ahead. It wasn’t a question.

“Ezra,” said Kanan, comforting and sorrowful and patient all at the same time, and just hearing that voice say his name was enough to break him. Ezra squeezed his eyes tight against the tears and threw his arms around Kanan, burying his face in his chest.

Kanan welcomed the embrace warmly. Even at the moment of his death, despite Ezra’s growth spurt, Kanan had still been taller than him.  But here in this dream of a dream, Ezra was practically a kid again, and Kanan seemed larger than life. If he had a choice, Ezra would stay safe in his arms like this forever.

“Kanan, I miss you so much,” Ezra sobbed. “I know you died so I could live. But I still need you _alive_ , with me. And Hera needs you, too. We _all_ do.”

Ezra both heard and felt Kanan’s classic, long-suffering sigh in response.

“Ezra, I wish things could be different. I wish I could come back and be with our family, to live the life we dreamed of, and to see the freedom we’ve been fighting for on Lothal. But this is the path I was meant to take. And if my sacrifice means that _you_ get to do all those things… Well then for me, it’s worth it.”

“But Kanan,” Ezra started, and his voice broke. He tried again. “Kanan, it won’t be the same without you.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had to go, and that’s something that can’t be changed.” Kanan was silent for a moment, running his hand over Ezra’s hair. Then he said slowly, “You won’t be seeing me again—at least, not like this. But remember, kid: no one is ever really gone.”

Ezra took a shuddering breath and tried to steel his courage. Before Sabine had found that holo of his parents, he had nearly forgotten what they looked like. Ezra knew how quickly a well-loved face could fade from memory, and even a picture just wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t waste his last chance with Kanan. Ezra pulled back from the hug so that he could see his master face to face.

Kanan looked so real that it broke his heart (and made Ezra wonder if Kanan might be really here, after all). He looked just as he had when they first met—hair tied back and neatly cut, beard trimmed to cover his chin alone, piercing eyes that shifted between blue and green depending on the light. But he _felt_ much different than he had in those days, in the Force: calmer, more content, complete instead of fractured.  

Kanan was at peace.

It took all his strength, but Ezra managed a watery smile. He said, “I’ll finish what we started together, master. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” said Kanan.

The sun was even lower now, and soon the moons and stars should be coming out. But even with the sun setting, somehow nightfall didn’t come. Instead, the sky became brighter and brighter and brighter, until the light was all Ezra could see. He heard Kanan’s voice one last time before the vision ended in a world awash with white.

“The Force will be with you. Always.”

* * *

 

**_Lothal, 9 ABY_ **

_As you approach, you see that the_ Ghost _is parked near the base of the tower. Good—it means Hera and Jacen and Chopper are already here. You park the speeder, turn off its headlights, and immediately have to flick on your glowrod; it is a very dark night._

_“Uncle Ezra!!” The yell comes first, and then a few seconds later, you are nearly bowled over by a small whirlwind of gray flight suit and green hair and bright blue eyes. You swoop him up in a massive hug. When you finally let go, Jacen claps his hands in delight at seeing you. The gesture seems surprisingly young and innocent, even for a kid. It’s a habit of his, but you still find yourself staring in wonder._

_Somehow, against all odds, Jacen is being granted what you and your master were both denied: a full childhood._

_Kanan would have been so happy._

_Tonight, the memory of Kanan brings a swell of fondness with it, rather than only sorrow. (Tomorrow his memory might carry a flood of guilt, or emptiness, or anger. But then again, it just might come with peace. You’re learning to take things as they come.)_

_“Where is your mom?” you ask, before you can get too caught up in thoughts of the past. “I brought her something,” you add, holding up a small bag of meilooruns._

_“She’s on the other side of the tower,” says Jacen, and sure enough, there she is, spreading a giant blanket over the ground. Zeb is helping with the blanket, and Sabine is a few steps away, setting out some art supplies while Chopper spins and burbles nearby. It is rare for you all to be in the same place at the same time these days, but somehow the Spectres have managed it tonight._

_When Hera gives you a hug, it feels like home. There are fine lines at the corners of her eyes, and it’s strange to think of how much time has passed. You’re older now than Kanan was when you first met._

_Sabine and Zeb greet you next, and they have changed too, with time: Sabine’s hair is different (again), and Zeb moves a little more slowly than he used to. But in another sense, it’s like nothing has changed at all—especially when you start poking fun at Zeb’s smell, and Zeb threatens to end you, and Sabine rolls her eyes at you both. Chopper rams straight into your legs, as usual, but you’re so happy to see him that you can forgive the bruises (even if you’ll never admit it)._

_Eventually you all settle on the blanket and stare up at the stars, with Jacen sandwiched in the center of the group. There are no moons tonight, but you still know where to find what you’re looking for, and you point it out to the others._

_“All right, kid,” says Zeb. “What exactly are we looking at?”_

_Sabine answers for you: “It’s the Firebird.”_

_“Stars!” yells Jacen, flinging out his arms._

_“A special constellation,” corrects Hera, with a gentle chuckle._

_For a second, you are overcome by emotion as you look around and savor the Force presence of each being around you. After everything you have lost, it is amazing that you still have so much to love. Your family. Something worth fighting for, and something worth living for. Finally, you smile and say one word:_

_“Hope.”_

**_…Behind,_**  
**_the world made of wishes goes dark. Ahead,_**  
**_if not now then never, shines what is._**  
_“The Seekonk Woods,” by Galway Kinnel_

**Author's Note:**

> Things I did as preparatory research for this fic:  
> \- Got semi-lost in an unfamiliar city  
> \- Explored an old, out-of-use mine  
> \- Travelled through space and time via a series of mysterious portals  
> …okay, so two of the three are true.  
>   
> ALSO. Please make sure you look at [this GORGEOUS art by rainglazed](https://rainglazedpaint.tumblr.com/post/179286331565/all-right-so-be-my-eyes-said-kanan-talk-me)! It was amazing to get to work with her, and the artwork she made is absolutely perfect! Also you should definitely check out her fic in progress too, [Worldwalker](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14683539/chapters/33925788)\-- SO good!


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